


A song of water and fire

by LadyPalma



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, shireen did not die because of melisandre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-11-27 00:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyPalma/pseuds/LadyPalma
Summary: He found her in his bed. Laying on the covers and fully dressed, but still with a sort of expectant look in her eyes. He could not possibly imagine a reason for her to be there, certainly he hadn’t been the one to invite her.





	1. The night is dark and full of terrors

**Author's Note:**

> First story posted on AO3 and first story ever about this unusual ship. More chapters will be added. Hope someone may be interested in reading it. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

**1.**

He found her in his bed. Laying on the covers and fully dressed, but still with a sort of expectant look in her eyes. He could not possibly imagine a reason for her to be there, certainly he hadn’t been the one to invite her.

“My Lady, what do I owe this surprise to?” he asked puzzled, not moving from the just closed door. “Are you here to kill me or to seduce me? “ he added then raising his eyebrows. He was clearly ironic but actually those were the two only reasons he could think of, given their relationship and her charater.

Melisandre kept staring at him and took a certain amount of time – and a long sip of wine from the glass in her hands – before finally answering.

“None. I just want to sleep here”

Her blunt reply left him even more confused and made him lose the faculty of speaking. When he gained it back, irony was once again the general tone coloring his words.

“I frankly believe that this castle has a lot other rooms. I can’t believe our Lord gave you a bad accomodation”

Slowly she sat upright and then in one single move almost crawled toward the edge of the bed, not leaving eye contact with him. He couldn’t deny that she was very seductive in that moment, even if maybe she was true when she said that she wasn’t trying to.

“Let me rephrase, Ser Davos. I want to sleep with you”

That explicit sentence seemed to have the power to finally break the sort of trance he had been stuck into. With quick steps, Davos approached the bed, not to confront her but just to throw his cloak on it without grace. His humor had somehow instantly died, replace by irritation.

“Go away, My Lady” he said and his tone was the one of a pure command.

Not looking at her, he then sat on the other side of the bed, taking his time to remove his boots. He was very conscious of her presence behind his back but made his best to deliberately ignore it.

Still, when he finally turned, she was still there, lying supine with her head on the pillow and her eyes closed. He contemplated her for a short while and then suddenly shook his head at his own thoughts, as he decided to lay down as well.

She did not leave.

He did not ask again her to do that.

**

**2.**

When Davos woke up the next morning, she was gone. For a moment he considered if maybe it had been all just a sick trick of his mind, but some unmistakable bright red hair on the pillow proved the reality of it. It was not a dream – or should he have said a nightmare? For a whole night they shared a bed, with no voices and no touches. When the light disappeared, it was even impossible to see her, but still he was aware of the concreteness of her silent presence. That fact alone was made to change the atmosphere in the room and the course of thoughts and feelings that usually lulled him to sleep.

He could not remember the last time he had slept – just slept – with a woman, but that certainly went back to when his  beloved wife was still alive. And now here he was, sleeping with Melisandre of Misshai with all of women. Woman? Sorceress, enchantress, witch, devil… And also, woman, yes, it occurred to him that he had never considered her a woman before, not for the lack of feminine attributes of course, quite the contrary for the absolute exaggeration of them.

Maybe all the woman aspect made hard to discover the human part. So she looked to him more woman now than the night when they traveled together and she removed her robes in front of him in order to give birth to the shadow. Now, that she went to him seeking for… seeking for what? Comfort, company, sympathy?

Silently he tried to give her all of that and, this time, it was the soft rhythm of her beaths to be his lullaby.

**

**3.**

Melisandre didn’t know the exact reason why she went to Ser Davos’s room in the first place. She just didn’t find a reason not to and that was enough to follow her instinct. In spite of all the men she had seduced with her body, she had probably never slept with a man or a human being, actually. It was strange now that she trusted with that peculiar honor the very person that had hated her and wanted to kill her, the very person who seemed to be personally immune to her seductive charm.

But, after all, it was not a matter of trust. Maybe it was just about curiosity, a strange sort of attraction and a sick need of comfort.

Whatever was the thing she was looking for, she found it and more. In the dark and in the silence, she felt good knowing that he was just inches away, she felt even better than she had expected. Nevertheless, first thing in the morning as she grasped a weak flash of light coming from the window, she stood and left, careful not to wake him up.

Because the night was over and so were the terrors.


	2. Are you afraid of the night?

**4.**

The following night, he found his bed empty. However, he had just finished changing his clothes for the night when he heard a knock on the door. He knew before opening that it was her and he could not help the feeling of relief that rushed through his veins as he actually met her gaze. It was not as if he had thought much about her during the day, but when he did it was with the unexplainable certainty that she would have looked for him again.

"Let me in, Ser Davos" she commanded.

And before he could even utter a word, she slided in through the gap of the open door. When he spoke, she was already near the bed, once again ready to claim a place in it for herself.

"Are you afraid of the night?" he asked, turning in her direction, with the not so subtle intent of mocking her.

When long time before he had led her by the sea following Stannis's order, she had been the one to ask that same question to him and he had aswered quoting her desperate and fanatic babblering about darkness and terrors. He still remembered it so well and he was sure that she would have taken the hint. And she did, indeed. Now sitting on the covers, she was chuckling quite the same way she had chuckled that very night.

Only that this time the chuckle held a shade of sadness and concern.

"We should be. You and I both" she replied.

And then, still with the ghost of that strange chuckle on her lips, she touched the bed. Actually she  _tapped_ on it, twice, hinting at him to come and lay beside her.

As if she was the owner of the room and he was the imposing guest.

* * *

**5.**

Melisandre was not afraid of the night, even if it was true that she thought that she should have.

The night was filled with so many more terrors than the ones she had always considered. It was filled with blindness and loneliness and emptyness. She was not afraid, but still she could not say that she liked it. Though her faith had not decreased, she had simply found out down the line that she had not grown used to the darkness as well as she had thought so far.

It was not fear but sadness the feeling that she felt inside her.

It was sadness that curiosly kept her pushing her toward Ser Davos.

It was sadness the motor of her unpredictable actions.

It probably was already the middle of the night when she moved her hand toward his part of the bed, shortly meeting his half naked torso. Slowly, she caressed his skin with her fingers until she placed her whole palm on his chest, having a taste of the warmth she longed for. And the warmth only increased when he suddenly grabbed her wrist to prevent any further movement.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his raspy voice closer than she expected.

She did not replay, instead turned her wrist trying to struggle and when eventually his grip weakened, she let her fingers wander in the dark. First she touched his hand, lingering on his cut fingers and then followed the path up his arm, finally resting on his elbow. She strengthened her touch and pressed his skin, with the aim to let him move his arm. She basically pushed it, until placing it around her waist.

"Hold me" she said, in what sounded as a perfect combination between a beg and an order.

Keeping his arm blocked by her hand, she turned her body, making her back stick to his chest and belly. He instantly froze, all the way too enchanted by her move to notice the new position she was creating. He was embracing her whole body now and had to admit that he didn't dislike at all that new intimacy. He still was quite amazed by how their relationship of pure hate was suddenly turning into something different. Could two nights be enough for a change?

Maybe not, but it was too dark and he was too tired to dwell on such things.

Eventually he relaxed against her and immersed his face into her soft red hair.

* * *

**6.**

When he woke up, it was a new morning without concrete presence. Still, he swore he had felt, at some point in his sleep, her lips pressed against his cheek and, opening his eyes, he found a blanket around him that wasn't there the previous night. He smiled at himself but couldn't help but feel angry at the realization he saw smiling  _for her_. During the day, instead of the previous one, he caught himself thinking about her, loging for the night and fearing it at the same time.

He knew he was playing with fire, or better, fire was playing with him.

He also knew that he could have easily get burntand he didn't like the idea – especially since he didn't holdquite a good memory of the Battle of the Blackwater.

Fear and fire still filled him equally as the night was falling on Winterfell and he was approaching his room. However something stopped him halfway. A voice, her voice, reached his ears from the room of one of the newest guests of the castle. The door was carelessly open and he had to do nothing more but take a look to indulge his curiosity.

The Hound was standing there with a confused look on his face and, at no more than armlenght, there was Melisandre half naked, clearly trying to seduce him for whatever God knew what reason.

Davos stood there just the seconds enough to catch her eyes and, when he finally met her gaze, left as quickly as he could.

He was not hurt, but still could feel the burn.

Whatever happened between them during those nights, she had clearly just threw it all into the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N/A I know there is no reason why the Hound is in the castle, but since it is an AU I'm just taking the liberty of mixing events. Also, I really wanted to add some hints to sansan - which are coming in next chapter.


	3. I want you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (In which Melisandre ships Sansa and Sandor)

**7.**

That very night, only a half hour later, Davos found her knocking on his door. He opened it and let her in, but the welcome he gave her was harsh and cold.

“You should leave, Milady” he hissed with a determination she had rarely seen on his face.

Melisandre looked genuinely surprised for a few seconds by that reaction, but soon recovered showing a little smirk.

“Is this because of what you saw? Are you jealous, Onion Knight?” she teased him, moving her face closer to his.

But where she expected to find some sort of fire, she was met instead with pure ice.

“I don’t care about the men you bed, but it is a trap I don’t want to fall in” he simply reply with no trace of anger in his voice. Actually, what she had mistaken for anger, was annoyance and a strange sort of fear. “’Cause there must be a purpose why you suddenly want to sleep in my bed every night. Seeing you with that man opened my eyes, you never do something for the sake of it… So tell me, what do you want from me?”

He wasn’t resented for the fact that she was seducing other men, but mostly because he suddenly realised that she was treating him like them. Seeing her with the Hound was like having a flash of her and himself from outside.

Oh, he was afraid. Not of the night, but of her.

“Ser Davos” she started with a sigh “I have bedded a lot of men in my life, because I needed information or because my Lord told me to…”

“- Or to create a shadow baby killer”

“Exactly!” Her tone lost at once all the calmness at his ironic interjection. “If you hadn’t noticed, Ser Davos, let me tell you that in all those nights we never had sex, nor I have tried to seduce you”

“Aye, and that scares me even more!”

Melisandre stared at him for some seconds, then let out a small chuckle and without saying a word started to remove her dress, until she was completely naked in front of him.

“Is this what you want? Does it make you feel better?” she asked approaching him even more. Her voice was sensual and hid just a little hint of sadness in it.

Davos was able to detect it anyway. Maybe because something in all the situation was making him sad too.

Of course he wanted it, of course he wanted _her_. But not like this, not when sex was just a mean to avoid talking and mostly if the lack of sex was actually the only proof so far of a strong connection between them.

So, he tried hard not to look at her body and instead kept his eyes locked on hers. “What I want is for you to tell me what the fuck you want from me” he repeated, more harshly. More desperately.

“Nothing. You are of no use for me, nor for the Lord of Light. Don’t you see? I am here jus because I want to. _I want you_ ”

She seemed sincere in her words, even if her eyes were fixed on the ground. She was naked in front of him and yet she was only ashamed of her soul, that she had bared with the last sentence.

Among all the crazy things he had heard in time coming out from her mouth, that was maybe the craziest to believe. Visions in the fire? The prince that was promised? It all could make sense compared to her wanting him. Why on earth would she want him? But, on the other hand, he wanted her, he was sure of it, and until some days before that seemed an absurdity as well.

In the meanwhile, he decided not to decide anything yet. He took a cover and wrapped it up around her body, before he could change his mind, and just motioned to the bed instead.

“Come, Milady… It is best if we get some sleep”

And so they fell asleep, body against body once again.

* * *

**8.**

Two red-haired women were standing one next to the other , watching at the yard of the castle below them, where Brienne of Tarth and Sandor Clegane were training together. Or better, trying to kill each other.

“He is a handsome man, isn’t he?” the older woman asked, hinting at the Hound “I went to his room last night, but apparently he has only one redhead in mind” she added with amusement in her voice.

Sansa Stark quickly looked away from the two knights and stared at the woman beside her in open disbelief. For a moment, she looked like the young girl she once was as a little blush colored her cheeks. She couldn’t tell herself if she were pleased for the hint that Sandor liked her that much or jealous because that dangerous woman had tried to seduce him. But still she was turning red, more red than her hair, more than the red woman.

As for Melisandre, she just smiled. That reaction was exactly the point of all her doing. The previous night she had proof that the Hound was in love with the Lady of Winterfell, while in that very moment she was having proof that she felt the same toward him. Actually, that information were of no use for her, except for the fact that she felt some kind of sympathy toward the girl and wanted to help her finding a happy ending after everything she had been through.

“The burnt man loves you, it is clear to see. And you are attracted to him. I think you should give him a chance”

Sansa blinked, as if that little move could erase her young hopeful self. And in some way it worked, since she chuckled shortly with no emotion and now the stare to the Red Woman became a glare.

“I am no ordinary woman, _Milady_ ”  Sansa replied coldly, stressing with irony the title “I can not show up in some men rooms, like you are used to do”

Melisandre kept on smiling, not at all hurt by that sideswipe. “You are right, Lady Sansa. You can’t have all the lovers I have, but I will never know the joy of having just one man to be devoted to” she said, noting their difference “I could never be a wife, no matter if I ever thought about that. You see,  I am no ordinary woman, as well”

With that said, the priestess started to walk away, thinking that she had already given Lady Stark enough to think about. But right before she could be out of sight, Sansa called her back.

“Lady Melisandre, what would you do if you were just an ordinary woman?” she simply asked out of curiosity, all the irony suddenly drained.

The smile was still on Melisandre’s face, just a little sad and weakened.

“I don’t know. Maybe I would just be happy settling down as _Lady Seaworth_ ”

But the voice turned out less ironic and more bitter than she had wanted to.

* * *

 

**9.**

Three days were enough for their routine to change, potentially for good. Jon Snow had decided to organize a group to go in exploration beyond the Barrer and Davos was asked to join. He had accepted of course, and all Melisandre could think about while hearing the news was that she wouldn’t have been able to sleep alone.

The night before the dangerous journey was basically like every other, as they silently slept together, skin against skin. But the morning after, before he could join the other men, she held him in his room – _their_ room – for a little longer. Nobody could ever suspect that the reason behind Ser Davos’s late arrival was that the woman he so openly hated was kissing him with a passion that had instead the taste of love.

Because actually she was kissing him, with all the tenderness she didn’t know she could find in herself.

The man was too astonished at first to have a reaction, but when he did and his mouth started to move against hers, she pulled away and just put a finger on his lips.

“Don’t, Ser Davos. You’ll kiss me back when you’ll be back”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late, university is killing me. Anyway, two notes for this story: 1- there will be 6 total chapters (so we are halfway) and 2- someone is defintely going to die before the last chapter, Davos OR Melisandre, but I promise it will be bittersweet (like GOT finale is supposed to be lol)


	4. Onions and tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (in which fluff won over me)

**10.**

As predicted, sleep didn’t come easy for Melisandre the next night. She had spent years – and in her case it was a matter of hundred of years – sleeping just with herself, and now suddenly she couldn’t find peace without a body wrapped around hers. No, not just any body, _his_ body. His handsome battle-scarred body she now knew so well, even if they hadn’t even had sex.

After hours of turning in vain in her cold sheets, she stood up and put on her usual red dress, with the purpose of enjoy the sight of the sleeping castle. However, when she reached the hall, it was not empty as she had expected. Lady Sansa was already there, in the centre of the room, sipping wine.

“Lady Sansa. Is it proper to say good morning yet?”

The young lady ackowledged the new presence with a nod and spoke only when the red woman deliberately took a seat beside her.

“I should have gone to him last night. I can’t think that there is a chance he will die and I will never see him again” she whispered, probably more to herself than to the other woman. But it was loud enough to be heard, and Melisandre surely knew who she was referring to.

It was a confession, one that could be made only in the middle of the night and maybe forgotten in the light of day.

A confession that didn’t require a judge, but just a listener.

A confession that could have been repayed only with another confession.

Therefore, Melisandre chose not to comment, but to let her thoughts free as well.

“I used to go to Ser Davos’s room every night and sleep with him. This is the first night I am alone and I am finding trouble sleeping” she revealed, ignoring the look of pure shock that crossed the other woman’s face for a moment. It was not like she had some reputation to mantain anyway.

“I didn’t know there was something between you and Ser Davos” Sansa couldn’t help but say.

“There isn’t” Melisandre bluntly precised. “Don’t mistaken me, Lady Sansa. We have not a relationship… I just want to be near him… And now that he is gone, I… I miss him”

Now, as the words fell from her mouth, she was making a confession to herself as well. Missing him? What was new for Sansa, was coming as a surprise to her own ears too.

This time, the Lady of Winterfell was quicker to recover and a small and tender smile was on her lips. The two women looked at each other and that was the moment a sort of understanding was made.

“You don’t have to sleep alone, if you don’t want to. I could use some company with this” Sansa said, grabbing the bottle of wine on the table. She then poured the liquid into an empty globet and offered it to her new friend, who gladly accepted it.

None of the two slept that night, but found some comfort in waiting together for dawn- and for whatever it would have brought to them.

**

**11.**

“And where is Ser Davos?”

Melisandre could not help the question, nor the worried tone she used. All around her, people were reuniting after the expedition beyond the Barrer and some news were already being told. But as she watched Lady Sansa gently putting her hand on the Hound’s arm, all she could think about was why she was not doing the same with the one she considered her own knight.

Jon Snow received the question with a hesitation she didn’t like. His face suddenly was a mask of sorrow and his eyes looked down for a moment, as a sign of guilt.

“We lost sight of him as we were running from the White Walkers. Both Ser Davos and Tormund are lost. I am so sorry” he finally said, raising his voice.

He was speaking  to everyone, not caring to give her a special attention. On the contrary, it was Brienne of Tarth the one to be addressed with that last comment and all the eyes were on the tall blonde woman. Melisandre was glad for that distraction so that she could sneak out from the courtyard without being noticed.

She didn’t run, nor showed any particolar emotion as she walked the empty hallway of the castle. She was looking for a quiet place to be alone, but not to cry like a child. Instead, she suppressed the feeling of dreadfullness inside her and spent the whole day staring in her precious fire, hoping to find a comfort in the flames.

But soon the night fell, the flames died down and a knock on her door signaled that dinner had come. It was only then as she took the tray from the servant and looked at the food that finally the reality of the situation hit her with all its strenght. As for some sort of twisted irony, onions were filling her plate and, before she knew, tears were filling her eyes – a salty feeling on her cheek for a salty man. Soon, the tears became actual sobs and the only comfort she could find was to leave her room and return to his one, climbing on the bed they had shared for all those nights.

The bed in her room was left untouched, as untouched was left the food.

And yet they say that onions could make you cry only when you cut them.

**

**12.**

The man opened the door without making any noise, so the woman in the dark made no move. Anyway, he saw her before she heard him, thanks to an exceptionally radiant moon in spite it was the middle of the night.

"My Lady, have you already stolen my bed?"

Melisandre almost jumped on the bed, sitting up quickly. Hearing an unexpected voice in the previously empty room could justify her reaction, espcially considering the familiarity of the voice in matter.

"Oh, Ser Davos... I thought you have died" she barely whispered, not daring now to move.

She had slept just a few hours and not continously. The previous night had been important to understand how much she had become used to him; but missing him for a night could never be compared to missing him for ever. Of course, she couldn't have the certainty of his death, but still, while crying all alone, she had felt like grieving.

So now, she could only stare at him with open wide eyes, wondering if she were really awake.

"Ah,  I don't think that's a good excuse to give my bed up yet. Maybe you could have waited for two or three days and..."

His teasing sentence was left unfinished as he finally looked at her face. The sight left him puzzled, or better, in complete awe. Her hair was messy, her face pale and her blue eyes wet for tears. She looked in clear distress and he had never seen her like that, not even after Stannis had died, not even after Jon Snow had died and she had lost her faith. But still, in front of that discovery, the only thing he could think about was how beautiful she was in that moment.

"You are crying" he eventually noted.

"I thought you  were dead" she simply replied, looking away from him in a vain attempt to avoid her display of humanity.

Confusion won over worry at that observation, as his awe only increased.

"Wait... Are you crying _for me_?'' he asked, not believing what logic was making him imply.

"I am, I was" she replied, quicker and easier than expected.

Facing the White walkers and almost becoming one of them was nothing compared to the absurdity of that moment. Beyond the Barrer he had had fear of dying and more often than not the thought of her crossed his mind, but he would have never expected that she was thinking of him as well, not with that intensity. It was long ago since he had someone waiting for him and to come back to, and definitely she was not that type of woman. And yet here they were.

Since when threats of enemies become whispers of secret lovers?

Since when he started to consider her not a dangerous witch but some kind of pure angel, _his_ pure angel?

Slowly, he approached her sitting next to her and gently raised her chin with two good fingers. Staring once again into her eyes, he didn't say anything, but just kissed her on the lips, as she had requested when they had separated.

It was a sweet and short kiss - that until she kissed him back at least. Soon, in fact, passion exploded as she grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him down on the bed under her body.

"I want you right now" she said, almost desperately.

"I want you too" he said, any diffidence and doubt suddenly forgotten.

In spite of the tiredness they both felt, for all night they kept kissing and touching and exploring each other's bodies. And even if they wouldn't have called it that, they made _love_ , no doubt of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too fluff? I definetly love these two, I couldn't help it. Next chapter is pure drama though - and spoiler: one of them WILL DIE.


	5. Salt and smoke

**13.**

Sleeping together was already a habit and soon making love became a habit as well.

For two whole weeks, as the all castle stood still waiting for the next step in the game of thrones, their relationship became something impossible to deny. In daylight they both separate ways, attending their own tasks, but at night they always found each other. There were a lot of pillow talks between them, about past and future and everything in between - but they never actually spoke about how their feelings were changing. They never gave a name to what they were, even though they both knew they were definitely _something_.

After those two weeks, Jon Snow decided to meet the Dragon Queen in Dragonstone to seek some help and, of course, requested Davos to go with him. The mission could have lasted some weeks, maybe a couple of months, but there seemed to be no dangerous in it, so both Davos and Melisandre just received the news with the unspoken bitterness of being apart from a beloved one, but not with the fear of losing him or her.

This time, he had no promise to keep about a kiss to return.

This time she would have slept well, even without him.

They spent the last night together just like every other night, without any particular sharing of feelings. And in the morning, they parted in his room with a simple kiss, a smile and the words _See you soon_.

No despair.

No fear.

It felt just like the short break of a habit.

* * *

**14.**

After Jon and Davos left for the south, Melisandre almost never got out of her room. Or better, Davos's room that had unofficially became her own.

Sansa, who was the only one aware of the relationship between the two of them, at first respected that sort of seclusion, but after two whole weeks, she started to worry and even to get a bit annoyed. How could a woman so strong and terrifying suddenly act so depressed just to be apart from her lover? It would have been too sentimental for everyone, especially for the Red Woman.

Therefore, at first sent some servants to her and then decided to go herself. All her calls and her knocks went unnoticed and it took a whole other week before, finally, an answer came. And in the most unexpected way.

Melisandre was not depressed.

She was actually hiding herself.

One night, it was the Red Woman to knock on her door, loudly and almost desperately.

"Lady Melisandre, what is wrong?" she asked, incredulously, opening the door.

But the surprise was meant only to grow as the older woman silently stepped in the room and removed the mantle that covered her body. An unmistakably pregnant belly was beneath the cloth and a scared look was on her face.

"I'm about to give birth, Lady Sansa. You have to help me"

* * *

**15.**

_How is that even possible?_ That was the question that was running through Sansa's mind. Of course she knew how those things happen, but therefore she also knew that time was an important factor and three weeks was definitely too little time.

However, she was not given the chance to process the first proof of magic she was seeing. The red woman had entered the room and was already lying on the ground, looking now practical and calm even in such a situation.

Inwardly though, she was probably the most scared she had ever been in her whole life. It was not the first time she was giving birth, but this time she knew it was different. Because this time, in spite of the short pregnancy, she was not having a shadow, but a baby, an actual human child.

"Is there something I can do?"

Melisandre glanced at the lady, between the hisses of pain.

"You do not have to phisically help me. You have to take care of my baby... And listen"

"Listen?"

Before she could ask for more, a yell of pure pain came from the red woman and that had the power to make Sansa finally awake from her thoughts and approach her.

"What can I do?" she repeated, now more scared but also more willing to help.

Melisandre did not answer, just kept screaming and moving following the contractions. That pain was not only physical, it was like something was breathing the life out of her and her soul was dying out.

Sadly, that was exactly what was happening.

"Salt... And smoke... Salt and smoke... Salt and... Smo-oke... I am the smoke"

What could sound as delusional words was actually the unexpected resolution of a lifelong riddle. Pain was strangely making the sorceress finally seeing everything clear, a last shocking vision that had no need of fire.

"I was wrong... Oh, I was wrong all along... I should have know... That he was the salt... I was wrong"

"About what?"

She averted her eyes to look at Sansa who was waiting for an answer. And so she did answer, hoping that her meaning would have been grasped, if not now, at least in time.

"When the red star... Bleeds... And the... Darkness gathers... Azor Ahai shall be born... Again... Amidst… Salt and-"

Melisandre suddenly fell silent, as a loud scream filled the room. A weak smile appeared on her lips, at the proof that the baby was born.

It was hard to tell if the happiness was because of the unexpected joy of becoming a mother or actually because she was ending her life fulfilling her mission.

In the meanwhile, Sansa had approached the screaming creature. As soon as she took that baby in her arms, the woman vanished in front of her eyes, not even leaving dust as a trace.

What was left of the Red Woman was the ruby necklace.

A cloud of smoke.

And a baby girl.

Made of salt and smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for posting so late and also very happy for the reviews I received: thank you!  
> This is how I had planned to end the story since the beginning (before season 8 even started): their child being Azor Ahai and Melisandre ending her mission by briging her to the world. I know it doesn't make much sense, but "salt and smoke" of the prophecy match so well Melisandre and Davos that I couldn't resist. Hope you liked the twist, comments are always very welcomed.  
> Also, I suggest to read my other long-fic about these two "Do not go gentle into that good night" set in S8.


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